


The Christmas Tree Incident and Subsequent Vengeance

by Redring91



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Brother-Sister Relationships, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Chatting & Messaging, Christmas, Christmas Tree, Emma Is Here For The Drama, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik is a Sweetheart, First Kiss, Flirting, Friendship, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Petty Vengeance, Protective Erik, Raven Is A Woman Who Arranges Things, Revenge, Texting, This Is What Happens When You Mess With Someone Who Idolises Magneto's Philosophy On Vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 10:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17323505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redring91/pseuds/Redring91
Summary: -Erik isn’t interested in the competition amongst the staff to decorate their offices for the holidays. He’s far more occupied by wanting to ask Charles for his number, and then perhaps a date. But when someone interferes with Raven’s Christmas Tree, Erik’s happy to demonstrate how far he’ll go in the name of petty vengeance.-





	The Christmas Tree Incident and Subsequent Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> -
> 
> This Incident is based on something that occurred in my workplace; though Shaw is a bigger and more malicious arsehole than my colleague is, and I didn’t need to go to quite the extent that Erik did in the pursuit of revenge (even though I really wanted to). But this is my final act of vengeance: forever preserving the Incident in fanfic. So please enjoy this greatly! >:D
> 
> -

-

 

“So, I need to get the Christmas decorations out tonight,” Raven says to announce her presence.

 

Charles raises his eyes from the essay he’s grading to frown at her. “It’s still November…?”

 

His sister rolls her eyes. “I’m aware. But we had six people walk past our desk today commenting on our lack of festive spirit, and I’m sick of it. I’m not waiting until Friday.” Her blue scales ripple with her agitation.

 

“Fair enough,” he replies, setting his pen down and getting to his feet. “They should be in the spare room. Let’s go have a look.”

 

Her relief at having his help is obvious. “To be fair, Hellfire’s office does look good. They’ve got a giant tree, lights strung up everywhere. Also, some weird tinsel spider things. Their boss even has a wreath on his door.”

 

Charles flicks the light on and assesses the mess which is their spare room. Their unofficial dumping ground is full of unopened boxes – everything they’d salvaged out from under their stepfather’s nose when they’d left their childhood home but hasn’t been essential enough to unpack. He tries to remember where they’d put the Christmas ones, moving towards the back of the room.

 

“I suppose we may as well pull everything out now, since we’re going to need them on Saturday anyway.”

 

“Can I have some good ones?” Raven asks. “I want to make an effort.”

 

He’s not reading her mind, but she seems conflicted about this. Given the disaster of their last Christmas, he’s not surprised. “Why are your colleagues decorating already?”

 

Raven huffs, turning one of the boxes around to find the labelled side. “The big boss’s PA sent an email out to all the staff last week encouraging everyone to deck their offices. You can choose to enter your section in this sort of friendly competition. The winner’s get a day’s leave in lieu, or something. But it’s less about people wanting to win and more about the festivities. Well, that, and the brown-nosing with the executives.”

 

Charles makes an understanding noise, then a triumphant one when he finds one of the boxes near the wardrobe. The other two are stacked beside it. He and Raven take all three boxes back to the living room and sit on the floor with them. Charles cuts through the tape and hands Raven the scissors to open the others.

 

They spend some time going through the decorations, reminiscing about the good memories associated with them. Raven picks out a large string of lights and some decent lengths of tinsel before coming across a small jar of baubles and lights. She holds it up, smiling warmly.

 

“Remember this?”

 

Charles laughs. “Mother’s bauble jar.”

 

Every morning on December First, their mother would pretend she’d stayed up overnight making it. It would be placed on the dining room table as the official first decoration for Christmas. Charles and Raven would then make up their own jars that night, one for each end of the mantelpiece in the family room.

 

The tradition had abruptly ended the Christmas after their mother’s death, when their step brother had deliberately broken their jars. They’d both been grounded the whole month for the black eye Raven had given Cain while distracting him, as Charles managed to save their mother’s jar. They’d both considered it worth it though, as the jar was one of the only items of their mother’s which had a personalised touch to it.

 

 _You thinking what I am?_ Raven projects at him.

 

Charles grins and makes a beeline for the kitchen, digging a box of empty jars out from under the sink.

 

They both make their jars and set them on the ends of the TV cabinet. They take a few minutes just to admire them, arms wrapped around each other. When Raven pulls back, she says “I want to make one for my desk too.” She folds herself back down into a cross-legged position. “Can you make one for Erik?”

 

“All right.” Charles starts feeding some lights into a new jar, interspacing it with some purple baubles. He remembers Erik mentioning being partial to the colour when they’d spoken last fortnight.

 

Raven notices, of course, because she’s his sister and therefore has an intuition for things that make him squirm. “I really have to get you guys to meet in person one day soon,” she says airily.

 

But the image she throws at him is laced with slyness – Erik, wearing casual dress, on a stepladder, reaching for an archive box on a high shelf. There’s a thin strip of skin showing above the waistline of his jeans where the hem of his shirt has lifted up – an observation which is entirely Charles’s own. Raven’s attention in the memory is on how unfairly good Erik’s arse looks in those jeans – an assessment Charles wholeheartedly agrees with.

 

He can feel his cheeks burning and hopes the flush isn’t obvious. “I’m sure Erik has more important things to do with his time than meet your crazy brother.”

 

Raven flashes a grin at him. “‘I’d love to meet your brother’ he said.”

 

He should never have told her he thought Erik attractive. Hastily, Charles changes the subject. “So, do you think you two will win the competition?”

 

She shrugs. “Well, honestly, we weren’t even going to put in for it. Erik’s Jewish, but he said he didn’t mind if I decorated. You know, for fun.”

 

It’s not until after Raven’s packed all of her selections into a few bags that she says thoughtfully, “maybe we could do a proper Christmas lunch this year.”

 

Charles’s breath catches in his throat. He looks at their jars on the cabinet, and then at the single poinsettia they have, which they’ve laid on the coffee table for now. “Yes,” he agrees, chest swelling with affection for his sister. “Perhaps we should.”

 

-

 

About ten minutes after he’s gotten the class set up with their quiz, Charles sees his phone light up with notifications. Satisfied his students are settled in he opens the messages. Raven’s sent him a text – **_Officially decked out for the holidays_** – along with a handful of photos.

 

The first is one of a cabinet, two doors long and about as tall as his midriff. The top edges are lined with blue tinsel, and standing in the centre is the small silver Christmas tree she’d taken in, complete with coloured lights and shiny baubles of red and green. On the wall behind it, a red stocking hangs either side of the tree.

 

The second photo is of their entire desk space; Raven’s backed up to the other side of the foyer to fit it all in frame. The top edges of the counter have been lined with tinsel too – gold for Raven’s corner, purple for Erik’s, and green in the middle stretch between the two. The entire front modesty panel – and the two sides too from what he can tell – has white lights strung across it in looped rows. He can see both of the bauble jars they made on the opposing corners of the counter, while two in-trays which are obviously usual accessories sit in the centre. The cabinet from the first photo is behind their desk – the silver tree really ties together the whole display.

 

The third image is of Erik. He’s kneeling in front of the desk, about halfway through stringing up the white lights. He’s looking over his shoulder at Raven – and inadvertently, the camera – with a wry smile. Charles lingers a moment over this photo.

 

He sends Raven a message back. **_Looks fantastic! Fancy lunch at Café 3?_**

 

They’d both been thrilled when she’d gotten the transfer three months ago for a position in the office building across the road from the university. Café Three is on the east side of the campus, closest to Raven’s workplace, and they occasionally meet there during their breaks.

 

**_Sounds good! Mind if I bring Erik with me ;)_ **

 

Oh god.

 

**_Of course not. I’ll shout you both. What would you like?_ **

 

He’s _actually_ going to meet Erik today. Provided he doesn’t have a heart attack about it in the meantime.

 

**_Continental baguette for me, chicken and salad wrap for Erik. Be there about 1215_ **

 

Charles spends the next two hours in a state of helpless anticipation. He gets to Café Three at about ten to twelve and orders their food, deciding on a ham and salad sandwich with a side of hot chips for himself. He takes all the food to a table outside, under the shade partitions. He doesn’t have to wait long until the familiar sense of Raven’s mind grows near.

 

Then Raven herself comes into view, walking down the thoroughfare from the main road, talking to Erik. Charles is abruptly glad he received a visual forewarning him about the suit Erik’s wearing so he doesn’t humiliate himself by staring. Much.

 

“That’ll bring this batch up to twenty,” Erik’s saying as they get closer. “Then we can send an email off to Records tomorrow.”

 

“So hopefully they’ll get picked up by Friday,” Raven continues. She waves as she catches sight of Charles and they approach the table. “Charles, Erik. Erik, Charles. Ooh, chips!” Raven drops herself into a chair and immediately pinches a handful.

 

Charles smiles at Erik as he slides into his own seat. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

“The pleasure’s mine,” Erik replies, then projects extremely clearly _thank you for lunch._

 

A thrill runs through Charles. _No problem._ Aloud, he adds, “you’re very good at that. Do you know many telepaths?”

 

Erik shakes his head as he unwraps his food. “One of our colleagues is a telepath, but I prefer to keep her _out_ of my head.”

 

“You must just have a natural talent for it then.” He glances at Raven, who’s looking too pleased with herself for it to be caused by her baguette. “Speaking of your colleagues, are they satisfied with your ‘festive spirit’ now?”

 

“Ugh,” is Raven’s answer.

 

“I don’t think anything pleases Shaw and his Hellfire minions,” Erik says dryly. “Other than tormenting me.”

 

“First it was all ‘where are your decorations,’ to which we kept saying ‘it’s not December yet.’” Raven lifts a chip from the bowl and begins to gesture with it. “Now it’s ‘ _oooh_ , wow, you’ve done _so_ much, yours is _so_ much _better_ than ours.’ So first we didn’t have enough and now we have too many?” She bites the chip in half, irritated.

 

Erik sighs. “It’s not that we’ve too many; they’re just jealous it looks so impressive. You’ve done a good job.” Then he smiles at Charles. “Thank you for the jar, by the way. It’s beautiful.”

 

So is Erik’s smile. Charles swallows, nods.

 

“The jars _are_ amazing.” Raven agrees proudly. “Pretty much everyone has said how nice they look, and that they want to steal them. But luckily Erik’s on hand to glower and say ‘please don’t’ whenever that happens.”

 

 _Steal them?_ At Charles’s frown, Erik clarifies. “Some idiot thought it would be amusing to joke in the staff email, that one might ‘beg, borrow, and steal’ –

 

“Asterisk, fine print, company values still apply,” Raven interjects.

 

“ – to decorate their offices for the festivities.” Erik rolls his eyes. “As if that’s not going to bite someone later.”

 

“That does seem a bit ridiculous,” Charles agrees. “Perhaps it was a backwards attempt to shame people into buying new ones dressed up as humour?”

 

“Consumerism.” Erik and Raven complain simultaneously.

 

“Speaking of being dressed up though,” Raven adds. She nabs Erik’s phone from its spot by his elbow and unlocks it.

 

“She does that to you too?” Charles asks, amused.

 

“The perils of telling her your passcode.” Erik side eyes her. “But I doubt there’s anything incriminating in there to worry about.”

 

“I’d say that’s because you’re boring, but that would be a lie. Ah, here.” Raven turns the phone around so Charles can see the screen. It’s a photo of her from this morning – she’s got tinsel draped around her shoulders like a fur boa and is laughing.

 

Charles grins. “We should frame that.”

 

“Good idea,” Raven agrees, tapping at the phone. A moment later, Charles’s phone receives a notification. “Print it out later.”

 

It takes Charles a second to realise Raven’s just given him _Erik’s phone number_. It takes him another moment or two to recover from this.

 

He turns to Erik. “I’m sorry to spend so much time talking about Christmas, when you’re hearing plenty of it at work,” he says apologetically. “Raven said you’re Jewish? Are you doing anything for Hanukkah – does that start on Sunday?”

 

Erik seems pleased by the thoughtfulness of the question. “Yes, I’m Jewish. I don’t practise much anymore, but I do still light the menorah for Hanukkah.” He glances across at the window of Café Three, which has an image of Santa’s sleigh plastered across it. “I don’t really mind Christmas, in theory.”

 

“You just don’t like it being aggressively shoved down your throat with no consideration to you.” Raven contributes, to which Erik makes a noise of agreement. “Who does?” Raven leans back in her chair, attention on her phone, signalling her withdrawal from the conversation.

 

Charles changes the subject, asking Erik whether he’s still being ‘murdered by his coursework.’ This leads Erik in turn to ask about his thesis. It’s when they start discussing different applications of their respective mutations, that Charles realises he might be in more trouble than he originally thought. Because Erik’s mind is even more alluring than the rest of him, and that’s saying something.

 

Raven interrupts only when their lunch break is up, announcing they have to go back to the office. Erik looks as disappointed as Charles feels.

 

“We should have lunch again soon,” Charles suggests, aiming for a casual tone.

 

“Yes,” Erik agrees immediately. “I’d like that.”

 

-

 

“So? What did you think?”

 

Erik’s certain they must have just left the range of Charles’s telepathy, given how successfully Raven’s held her tongue until now. He feigns ignorance. “The food was good, you were right.”

 

Raven smacks his shoulder. “Don’t be obtuse.”

 

He relents. “Charles is very charming. And I didn’t humiliate myself. So, yes, I’m glad you suggested it, all right?”

 

Raven chuckles. “You’re hopeless.”

 

“ _You’re_ insufferable,” he retorts as they reach the stairs. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that text.”

 

Raven hops up the steps, so she can plant herself in his way, poking a finger to his chest. “You’re the one who’s been angsting all week about whether you should ask him for his number. I got you that, and an introduction. So, you’re welcome.” She pivots on her heel and continues up the stairs.

 

Erik smiles fondly as he follows her. “You’re a modern-day Dolly Levi,” he compliments her. _Hello, Dolly!_ was one of his mother’s favourite musicals and he watches it every year on her birthday in remembrance. He’d recommended the movie to Raven last month and she’d subsequently fell in love with Streisand’s performance.

 

Raven laughs. “Should I make up little cards to give out then? Miss Raven ‘Mystique’ – idiots pining taught how communicate.”

 

 _Idiots, plural?_ Erik’s gaze snaps back to her. “Does Charles fancy me too?” Raven grins mischievously, then mimes zipping her mouth shut.

 

Well, that’s encouraging.

 

Erik holds his pass against the reader to unlock the door, which Raven pulls open and holds for him. He thanks her but comes to a halt a few steps into the foyer.

 

The silver tree is gone.

 

Someone’s taken Raven’s tree, the one she’d explained she and Charles used to hide in her cupboard during the holidays, so it wasn’t trashed. She’d been so happy to finally have it out on display this morning.

 

He hears Raven inhale sharply behind him. He stalks over to their desk, his anger building. “Who the hell’s stolen our tree?” As he rounds the desk, drawing a breath to continue, he senses the speckles of out of place metal the same time he notices the glint of silver beneath his corner of the desk. He jerks his chair out of the way, sending it rolling towards the cabinet, and kneels to peer under his desk.

 

The tree’s been thrown under there; lights, baubles, and all.

 

“What _dummkopf’s_ done this?” It’s sitting atop his bag as well, which is highly suspect placement given the other eighty five percent of vacant floor space. Erik eases the tree towards him, muttering and cursing as he does. He cradles it in his arms as he gets back up but stills when he turns back to see Raven.

 

She’s still standing in front of the door, eyes wide. She’s shifted – wearing her most common ‘human’ looking form, and her face is very pale. She’s trembling and starts fiercely when he calls her name.

 

“My charger,” she blurts out and stumbles around to her side of the desk. “My purse is in my bag, and my planner –” she drops to the floor, dragging her bag out and onto her lap, but she’s shaking so badly she just clings to it rather than trying to open it.

 

Erik, as a general rule, doesn’t like people. Not many people like him either. He and his last offsider had basically tolerated each other because it was practical rather than try to develop any sort of rapport, and Erik had expected much the same of Raven. However, on her second day, Erik had given a five-minute lecture to one of the supervisors working in Langley who’d made a derogatory comment about her blue skin. They’d spent the rest of the day bonding over their frustrations about ignorance, prejudice, and discrimination.

 

A few weeks later, Raven had asked him for a lift to an appointment, as Charles had had to stay back late. When they’d arrived at the Doctor’s office, she’d been unable to make herself get out of the car. She’d asked him to go in with her and had clung to his arm the whole time.

 

Afterwards, she’d quietly told him about the volatile relationship she and her brother had with their stepfather. Erik, not having much experience with comforting others, had gone through the drive-through, bought her a sundae, and encouraged her to talk; he’d listened attentively for over an hour. He’d then offered to kill Kurt Marko and hide the body. Raven had laughed, cried, hugged him, and declared him the best friend ever.

 

Erik’s never had a friend before. He’s confident enough about his relationship with Charles to say he now has two. And Erik can also say, without question, that he’d burn down the world for either of them.

 

He puts the tree on his desk and approaches Raven, kneeling beside her. “Your charger is still plugged into the wall.” He keeps his voice calm and assured, to ground her. “Everything in your bag today has metal on it – its contents are exactly the same as when we left.” He touches her elbow, taking it as a good sign when she doesn’t flinch. “I’m going to put your bag on your desk. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Raven whispers miserably.

 

Erik does so, then takes her hands, easing her up so he can sit her in her chair. He offers her the water bottle. She takes a few sips and leans back in the chair, breathing deeply.

 

The foyer door opens, Azazel and Angel entering the building. Angel looks from the empty cabinet top to the tree on Erik’s desk, a quick laugh bubbling out of her. “Did your tree go missing?”

 

Raven immediately goes tense, the plastic bottle crinkling in her grip. Erik glares furiously, which promptly wipes the smile from Angel’s face. Azazel grabs her arm and drags her away, both of them disappearing down the corridor into Hellfire.

 

“Whoever did this is going to regret it,” Erik says darkly, before looking down at Raven again. “Would you like to put it back, or should I?”

 

Raven smiles at him. It’s a tiny thing on her still pale face. “Could you?”

 

He nods. He has to unbend a few of the branches and fish a few loose baubles out from under his desk, but after a few minutes the silver tree is back in its proper place.

 

“Thank you,” Raven says, and he knows she means it for more than the tree.

 

Now that she seems to be managing okay, Erik’s initial irritation returns. “Only a moron could have thought that would be a good idea.”

 

“Or a funny one,” Raven says bitterly.

 

Erik isn’t so sure this has been a prank, but rather a personal attack on him. Either way, the anxiety it’s caused Raven is unacceptable. He drops into his chair. “Well the person responsible better apologise.” He scowls towards the small group of people loitering near the Hellfire office doorway and raises his voice. “I’ll wait for the guilty one to crack. And grovel. At which point I will NOT forgive them.” He narrows his eyes as the staff abruptly scatter.

 

Raven’s following his gaze, considering Hellfire. She gets to her feet. “I’m gonna go for a wander, to see if anyone fesses up.” She’s still wearing her blonde form – hiding behind it, out of habit – but her expression is determined.

 

Erik respects her immensely. “Tell them I’m angry,” he suggests.

 

Raven smirks and walks down the corridor. He’s fairly certain the culprit will be from Hellfire, given how over enthusiastic their staff has been so far about the competition, and also how much their boss despises Erik.

 

The office door beside his desk opens and McTaggart steps out. She falters a little under his scrutiny, holding up the folder she’s carrying. “The accounts you were going to settle for me?”

 

“Ah.” He gestures her over, accepts the folder. “No problem. Unless you were involved in the Christmas Tree Incident.”

 

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

 

When he tells her someone stole their tree, she looks horrified and is quick to assure him no one from her unit had anything to do with it. He believes she’s innocent, but he won’t rule out the others in Langley just yet.

 

McTaggart’s gone by the time Raven returns, looking annoyed. “No one owned up.”

 

“They lied to you.” Erik’s sure of this. “Someone will know something.”

 

Raven sits back in her chair, stabbing the keyboard emphatically as she unlocks her computer.

 

Erik senses Emma before he sees her but doesn’t give her any attention until she’s leaning against the counter in front of him, mindful of the tinsel and lights. “Rumour has it a terrible mistake’s been made.”

 

“Did _you_ do this?” Erik accuses.

 

“Relax, sugar.” Emma shakes her head. “I know better. It was a dreadful thing to do.”

 

Erik knows Emma doesn’t care less about the morality of appropriating someone else’s stuff. But she does indeed know better than to cross him, and she’s savvy enough to ingratiate herself to the administration support staff before shit hits the fan. “Do you know who did?”

 

“Not at the moment.” She replies. “I could try to find out for you.”

 

“That would be appreciated,” he tells her and grins, showing a lot of teeth.

 

When Emma’s gone back into her business unit, Raven asks, “you really think she’ll help?”

 

“Emma loves drama and gossip.” Erik thumps an archive box onto his desk. “This sort of thing is Christmas for her. She’ll enjoy fanning the flames.”

 

Raven fiddles with her phone briefly, then opens the records spreadsheet to continue logging their files.

 

Erik’s phone vibrates. **_Why does Raven need choc mint ice-cream?_**

 

 ** _She had a panic attack. She’s ok now but she’ll likely crash again later._** Erik texts back. **_My vengeance on her behalf shall be fearsome._**

 

**_I’m glad she has you to look out for her. Thank you._ **

 

The fact that Charles doesn’t push for details speaks volumes about the trust he has in Erik’s ability to support Raven, given the stories she’s told about her brother’s protectiveness.

 

There’s some sort of hushed commotion going on in Hellfire; a civil war’s broken out amongst the ranks. Erik’s still angry, but now he’s also smug about his fear-inducing powers. Erik stops typing when Emma returns, eyeing her expectantly.

 

“Apparently, Janos saw the culprit in the act. Took some coaxing, but he named Sebastian.”

 

“He lied to me!” Raven hisses immediately.

 

“Why am I not surprised,” Erik says in response to both of them. He starts snapping his stapler remover open and shut, imagining it biting down on Shaw’s thieving fingers.

 

As if Erik’s loathing has summonsed him, Shaw appears. Ignoring Erik, he addresses Raven, vigorously professing his innocence. “I don’t know why anyone would claim it to be me, Raven, you know I’d never do that to you.”

 

Emma rolls her eyes and walks away. Raven raises her eyebrows. “So, you’re saying you didn’t do it?”

 

“No, of course not.”

 

 _You just lied to her face._ Erik thinks furiously. _I will end you._

 

Raven turns back to her screen, unimpressed. Shaw then finally looks over at Erik and smirks. “Such a thing would hardly be keeping in the spirit of _Christmas_.”

 

Erik says nothing, gritting his teeth and glaring at Shaw from beneath his lashes until the man leaves. He opens a new browser window, types ‘tree thief’ into the search field, and stabs at the enter key.

 

He cannot believe the result he gets.

 

He opens his drawer and pulls out several boxes of paperclips, melting them together until they form a sheet of metal the same size and thickness of an A4 piece of paper. Then he starts engraving.

 

An email comes through to his inbox. Emma’s sent it to both him and Raven: **_Sebastian’s called Janos into his office and is currently berating him for being a snitch._**

 

Raven scoffs derisively.

 

About ten minutes later, Azazel comes to their desk. There’s some casual small talk between him and Raven before the inevitable attempt at smoothing out ruffled feathers. “I wanted to see if you, both of you,” he adds, glancing at Erik, “wanted to be added to our area’s photo mural.”

 

The mural, which Angel had described to them that morning, was made from pictures of all the Hellfire minion’s faces, used as ornaments on the full-sized Christmas tree next to Shaw’s office.

 

“Well, that’s thoughtful of you, Azazel.” Raven says politely without answering the offer either way.

 

Erik smiles thinly. “I’m going to have to decline,” he says dryly. “As, unfortunately, I’m not feeling too happy towards your business unit right now.”

 

Azazel goes very still at the implication that Erik is holding their whole unit complicit.

 

“It’s going to be a long month of December,” Erik adds.

 

“He says, while gazing off into the distance like a battle-hardened berserker,” Raven narrates seriously.

 

Azazel practically flees, teleporting away rather than walking.

 

Erik has the name of the one responsible, the office housing the thief riled up into a panic, and a need for vengeance settled into his blood. He’s satisfied for now.

 

Before he and Raven leave for the day, Erik takes his finished sheet of engraved metal and affixes it to the wall beside the silver tree. “Just in case anyone hopes this Incident will be forgotten anytime soon.”

 

Raven comes to investigate, peering at the sign. There’s mistletoe in both top corners, nicely framing the first word of the bold text taking up most of the sheet: **PHORADENDRONS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED**. In much smaller font along the bottom edge it reads: ***Phoradendron is a genus of mistletoe family, Visaceae – the genus name Phoradendron is derived from the Greek for “tree thief.”**

 

“You,” Raven says reverently as she throws an arm around him, pulling him in for a sideways hug, “are a genius.”

 

-

 

Arriving at the office, Erik flips on the lights for the foyer, the tree, the bauble jars, and the desk. Then he takes a photo of his phoradendron sign and sends it to Charles. **_Here you go_**. When he pulls his chair back, he finds two small chocolates sitting on it. There’s two on Raven’s chair too.

 

“Is this some sort of peace offering or something?” Raven asks when she gets in.

 

“How are we supposed to know?” Erik responds. “There’s no note; no one’s said anything. So who can say for sure?” The chocolates are definitely from Shaw, even if he wasn’t the one to personally place them there – Shaw always gives Erik this kind, because he knows Erik’s allergic to them. He offers his to Raven, who happily eats them along with her own. Then he texts Charles the photo he took of the chocolates on his seat.

 

**_We may accept chocolates but there shall be NO FORGIVENESS._ **

 

**_Aren’t you allergic to those? :(_ **

 

Erik’s never mentioned that to Charles and can only assume Raven has. He’s flattered that Charles is so attentive. He hopes the reason for it is the same reason Erik remembers everything he learns about Charles.

 

**_Your sign looks incredible by the way. You’re extremely gifted._ **

 

“Are you blushing?” Raven asks, amused.

 

“No!”

 

She snickers, gathering up the forms she needs Platt to sign off on. “Say hi to Charles for me.”

 

“Shut _up_ , Raven.”

 

Despite Raven’s teasing, he continues exchanging texts with Charles throughout the day.

 

**_People keep asking me what phoradendrons are. It’s very satisfying to stare at them and say tree thief._ **

 

**_They need to be educated. Raven says you’re making everyone nervous XD_ **

 

**_What she actually said was I’m a vengeful assassin and everyone else should be terrified. She’s not wrong._ **

**_The Langley coffee club just went past complimenting our display *narrows eyes* ‘I was just admiring it!’ >:) Damn right._ **

 

**_I doubt anyone else will be foolish enough to interfere with your decorations again._ **

**_How’s Raven doing?_ **

****

**_She seems ok. I thought she’d worry about leaving her things at her desk again, but she says she trusts my ability to inspire fear and keep them safe._ **

****

**_Your presence would certainly make me feel safe. Has anything been said about the chocolates yet?_ **

****

**_No. No apology either. I’m taking steps to address that. My new sign’s almost done, hang on._ **

 

It’s another A4 sheet of metal; with a tree engraving on the right side that closely resembles their silver one. All down the left is writing, segmented into four sections:

 

**Still awaiting an acknowledgement of your involvement in the Christmas Tree incident.**

**A formal apology is encouraged.**

**However, acceptance of any formal apology shall remain pending until the conclusion of the Yuletide period.**

**Failure to apologise will result in a 12 month awareness course in why the Egyptians originally heralded the evergreen trees as a symbol of life’s victory over death.**

 

Erik bends two small strips of metal he bought in and affixes them to the back, turning the sign into a stand, and props it on the counter in front of his computer. As he texts the photo to Charles, Emma returns from her meeting and pauses to read the sign.

 

“I doubt you’re ever going to get an apology from him.”

 

Raven deserves one. Erik grins sharply at Emma. “We’ll see.”

 

-

 

Having a meeting scheduled for the whole of a Friday morning is frustrating enough, but when he arrives at his desk to find the apology sign has been pushed over, Erik genuinely considers whether murdering someone with mistletoe would be acceptable because it’s festive.

 

He repositions the sign and decides he needs to make another. He slips a sheet of metal into a manilla folder with the rest of his paperwork to take with him. If Shaw touches _anything_ on Erik’s desk while he’s gone, he’ll retaliate by deconstructing Hellfire’s photo mural AND the tree it’s arranged on.

 

The meeting is a useless waste of time filled with information Erik already knows, so he utilises the first two hours covertly engraving metal instead. He has to concentrate to get the detailing right without being able to compare it to the picture he examined earlier on.

 

Erik wonders if using the reason of needing to check their desk would excuse him from the rest of the meeting. But this is unlikely.

 

When they’re finally released, he and Raven are both tired, hungry, and hating powerpoint with a seething passion.

 

“Soon it will be the weekend,” Raven moans.

 

“You and Charles have any plans?”

 

“December First means putting up our decorations. Charles has a bit more grading to finish I think.” Raven shifts the colour of her nails to bright green. “I’m planning nothing else more complex than pyjamas and the TV. How about you?”

 

“I’ve got one more module due before the holiday break.” Erik holds the door open for her. “I’d like to see if I can finish it early.” He sets his folder down on the countertop and pulls the new sign out. “Here, tell me if this looks right.”

 

The sign has the words **A Grinch: Someone who steals other people’s Christmas Trees** along the top, and **Don’t be a Grinch** across the bottom. In the centre is an image of the Grinch absconding with a Christmas tree.

 

“You did this from memory?” Raven traces her fingers over the Grinch. “Wow. Yeah, it looks great. You going to put it with the other one?”

 

Erik nods, adding metal struts so he can stand it in place.

 

“Sean from downstairs came by yesterday.” Raven tells him as she starts opening their mail. “Read your signs. He was filled with horrified sympathy when I told him about the Incident. And fear. A lot of fear, of you.”

 

Erik grins. “Knew he had some sense.”

 

Raven huffs a laugh. “Well I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole of downstairs knows what happened now.”

 

“Good.” Erik’s grin turns sharp as Angel approaches, slowing to take in the addition to his desk. “The more people who know means more pressure for the Tree Thief. Hello, Angel. Can I help you?”

 

Her smile is tight. “I’m just looking.” She gestures to the Grinch sign. “You’ve made another one?”

 

“Yes,” he says conversationally. “In fact, I’m thinking I might add a new one every day until Raven and I get an apology.”

 

“That’s…nice.” Angel hesitates. “Actually, I wanted to ask if you could order some stationery for us?”

 

“Raven? Would you like to place an order for Hellfire?”

 

Angel looks alarmed at Erik’s deferral. She probably doesn’t want to be the one to tell Shaw about this. Raven agrees to the request, making a note to add the items to her order that afternoon. When Angel’s gone, she asks, “are you really not going to do any of Hellfire’s work anymore?”

 

“Not until Shaw apologises. And I guarantee you, this will make him take this seriously.” Shaw probably won’t care about the signs, or Raven’s anxiety, or Erik’s anger. But realising it means he can’t treat Erik like his personal bitch?

 

As if in response to his thoughts – though he’s pretty sure she’s not actually reading his mind – Emma sends him an email with multiple exclamation marks in the subject line.

 

**_WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME???_ **

 

Ah. So Emma’s been nominated for the task of informing Shaw. Serves her right for getting so much enjoyment out of this. He replies with a gaudy clip art image of a Christmas tree – Emma despises clip art – and suggests to Raven they break for lunch.

 

When they get back, Azazel’s loitering by their desk. “Heads up,” he says as he gives Raven a stack of approved invoices. “An apology is coming your way very shortly.”

 

“About time,” Erik mutters before asking, “you’ve all had a chat with him then?”

 

Azazel doesn’t deny this. “Good luck,” he replies, giving Erik a sceptical look that translates to ‘we both know its not going to mean anything.’

 

Raven ducks into Langley to scan the invoices. A few minutes later, her mobile starts vibrating continuously on her desk. Erik wouldn’t incriminate himself by saying he literally jumps up to answer it, but, well.

 

“Raven’s phone.”

 

“She should start paying you,” Charles says, a smile in his voice.

 

Erik sinks back into his chair, mood immediately improved. “Ah, but speaking to you is reward enough.”

 

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

 

“I hope so.” Erik lazily swivels his chair from side to side. “How’s your day been going?”

 

Charles relates a tale about his colleague Hank and an accident in the lab. Erik tries not to laugh too much at the fellow’s misfortune, but he doesn’t do very well. “At least you were there to help him. You’re always saving people.” Charles hums, the sound warm. Erik’s pulse kicks up and he licks his lips. “Charles. I wanted to ask if –” he cuts himself off as he turns his chair and finds Raven standing there watching him. “Oh. Hi, Raven.”

 

She grins and holds out her hand for the phone.

 

“Um. I’ll talk to you later, I guess.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Charles agrees. They exchange farewells and Erik surrenders the phone. By the time Raven’s finished discussing food shopping and hangs up, Erik’s no longer confident asking his aborted question would’ve been a good idea anyway.

 

He and Raven get stuck back into work, checking off the archive boxes scheduled for collection on Monday, and its an hour later when Shaw turns up. “Raven. Erik.”

 

“Shaw.”

 

“I thought I’d come to clear up the little misunderstanding.”

 

Erik puts the clipboard down on his desk with a deliberate clack. While he’s greatly satisfied, being vindicated in his expectation of getting Shaw to confess, he knows this is going to be headache inducing.

 

“About the Incident with our tree?” Raven asks, her tone entirely civil, betraying nothing of her feelings.

 

“Yes.” Shaw draws himself up, wearing a slippery smile. “It was merely a small practical joke that went a bit wrong.”

 

 _Bullshit_. “Well, it wasn’t funny,” Erik comments flatly.

 

The look Shaw gives him promises much torture in his future. Turning his attention back to Raven, he says “obviously you didn’t react in the way I expected.”

 

“I see.”

 

“And I’d hate for this minor misunderstanding to impact our working relationship. So, I’m hoping we can put it behind us now.” He looks at Raven expectantly.

 

It does not escape Erik’s notice that Shaw has not once used the word sorry.

 

Raven’s noticed too. “Well. I appreciate your _apology_.”

 

“But why it took several days, and several of your colleagues encouraging you, I don’t know,” Erik adds lightly.

 

Shaw chuckles awkwardly, but otherwise ignores Erik’s statement. Instead, he reiterates to Raven that it was a prank which wasn’t taken in the way it was intended, then thanks her. “I wouldn’t expect Erik to understand, but at least you know forgiveness is very much in the spirit of Christmas.” He saunters back towards Hellfire, head held high.

 

Raven pinches the bridge of her nose and sits down.

 

“Right,” Erik says to himself furiously, glaring after Shaw. “Right.”

 

-

 

With only twenty minutes to go, Azazel returns to see them. “Did you get an apology?”

 

“We got an acknowledgement,” Raven tells him. “Which is probably the best we’d ever get out of Shaw.”

 

Azazel nods. Then glances from Erik to the sign nearest to him, which happens to be the one encouraging an apology. “Does that mean you’re going to remove these?”

 

Erik raises an eyebrow. “I shall amend it,” he says measuredly.

 

Azazel spreads his hands in a ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ sort of way. “Shaw wants to see you, by the way. He’s got a job for you.”

 

“I bet he does.” And it better not be one of those ‘it’s last thing on a Friday but I need it by first thing Monday morning’ jobs. He heads down towards Hellfire, and halfway down the corridor Emma hits him with the telepathic equivalent of rapping on a door for attention.

 

 _What?_ He demands.

 

 _Don’t react to the decorations Sebastian’s added to his windows_ , she tells him. _He’s still pissed at me, and he’ll make me stay back to remove them if you complain._

 

Erik understands her wariness when he catches sight of Shaw’s office. _You owe me one for this, Emma_. Seething, he stalks into the office. “Shaw. You asked for me.”

 

Shaw sets a thick bound booklet on the table between them. “The booklets you and Raven did last week were unfortunately updated this morning. I need you to redo all forty of them. Before you leave today, if you don’t mind.”

 

Erik hates him.

 

As he takes the booklet, Shaw smiles sweetly. “Did you see the new stickers?” He gestures to the glass wall of his office, which is covered in stars – six pointed stars with Merry Christmas plastered across them. “They resemble the Star of David, don’t you think? I have extras, if you’d like some.”

 

Erik’s going to kill him.

 

-

 

“I’m surprised Erik didn’t kill him.”

 

Charles sighs. “Why does Shaw hate Erik so much?”

 

“No idea.” Raven folds her legs beneath her as she climbs onto the couch. “He’s just an asshole.” She opens her laptop. “I feel bad I didn’t stay back to help.”

 

“Erik insisted one of you should go home on time.” Charles doesn’t add he finds that sweet. “At least Shaw apologised for the Tree Incident?”

 

“He blamed me for reacting wrong, and after days of shame from his colleagues, the signs, and the word spreading further. Forgive me if I doubt his sincerity.”

 

Charles re-opens the last photo Erik sent him, with the amended apology sign:

 

**An apology has been extended for the Christmas Tree Incident.**

**The acknowledgement is appreciated.**

**Fun factoid regarding the origins of the use of Christmas Trees for the Yuletide period:**

**The Egyptians originally heralded the evergreen trees as a symbol of life’s victory over death.**

 

“I think Erik’s passive aggressive enough to handle it.” Charles smiles at the follow up message, which is a giant wall of text about Erik’s determination to make Shaw endure a month of constant public reminders of the Incident.

 

“Interesting,” Raven comments.

 

“What?”

 

“Oh, nothing.” She smirks. “I just find it cute that you’re so supportive of Erik’s flair for petty vengeance.” Raven plugs her phone into her laptop. “Usually you’re the one advocating for keeping the peace.” Before Charles can come up with a reason which might justify his stance other than the fact that he fancies Erik, Raven renders the point moot by saying, “when do you plan to ask him out then?”

 

He wacks her with his crossword book.

 

She laughs. “Seriously, though.”

 

“Mind your own business.”

 

“This is entirely my business.” Raven adjusts the angle of her screen. “But fine, I won’t meddle. Much. Anymore.”

 

Charles doubts this beyond her dropping the subject for now. He turns on the TV and they spend the rest of the evening watching compilation videos of one of their favourite comedians.

 

-

 

Charles double checks the lid on the food container he’s holding is secure, then follows Raven as she walks down the path towards her office building. “After everything that happened last week, I don’t think they deserve your baking.”

 

“That’s because you want to eat it all yourself.” Raven glances back at him. “You didn’t have to help me, I could’ve managed both containers.”

 

This is true. “It’s no problem.”

 

“Hmm. You’re such a good brother.” Her tone turns sly. “And you can say hi to Erik while you’re here.”

 

This absolutely wasn’t a factor in Charles’s offer to give her a hand. Not at all.

 

Raven swipes her way into the door but then comes to a stop just inside. “ _Holy shit_.” Charles sidles past her and then he stares too.

 

The entire foyer has small metal trees hanging from the ceiling. Most of them are silver, but there are some purplish ones and greenish ones as well. Three trees, one of each colour, sit on Erik’s countertop too, in the sizeable gap between his in-tray and the apology sign.

 

“Morning, Raven,” Erik says nonchalantly from his desk. “Hello Charles. How are we today?”

 

“Holy…” Raven repeats.

 

“This looks incredible.” Charles approaches the desk, putting the container on the counter and tipping his head back to gaze up at the trees. Erik’s been clever, packing them in as tightly as possible while still leaving enough room for each to be showcased as an individual decoration. “There must be thousands of them.”

 

“Nine thousand and one.” Erik reveals, both pleased and exhausted. “Plus these three here.”

 

“How long did this take?” Raven asks, awestruck.

 

“Pretty much the whole weekend to make them all,” Erik admits. “I came in at five-thirty to put them up. Worth it, to see Shaw’s face when he walked in.”

 

Raven laughs, shaking her head. She picks up the container Charles had been minding. “I’m going to put these in Langley’s fridge then.”

 

“Good call,” Erik says after her as she heads into that unit.

 

Charles moves closer to Erik. “May I?” He indicates the trees and when Erik nods he picks up the green one. It’s about four inches tall with roughly an inch and a half radius. It’s a fairly simple sculpture, with four lots of staggered triangular silhouettes for branches.

 

“I thought I might add a new tree to my counter for each day of December, like one of those chocolate countdowns.”

 

“Advent calendars.” Charles smiles, setting the tree back down, tracing his finger over the edges of the branches. The amount of effort it must have taken to craft them; hours and hours, and over nine thousand. “I’m impressed by how disciplined you must be, to have sustained such continuous exertion.”

 

“There are activities other than vengeance I can apply that talent to.”

 

The first three thoughts that come to mind are suggestions on how Erik might demonstrate this. The way Erik’s focused on him and the heated anticipation colouring his surface thoughts makes Charles optimistic about his chances. But before he can ask, a woman with an iridescent mind approaches; she’s also a telepath, and thus must be Emma.

 

Erik’s attention shifts to include her, and she smiles. It looks like Raven hadn’t been exaggerating about this woman’s sincere smile being twenty percent sharper than anyone else’s.

 

“I didn’t get a chance to thank you on Friday.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Erik replies simply, waiting for her to continue.

 

Emma turns towards Charles. “Who’s your friend?”

 

“Charles Xavier,” he introduces himself. “I’m Raven’s brother.”

 

“Oh, _you’re_ Charles,” Emma croons delightedly as she shakes his hand. Wickedly she adds, “Erik thinks about you a lot.”

 

“You’re no longer welcome,” Erik says with exactly the same inflection he’d used before. Emma laughs.

 

“Hey, Emma,” Raven interjects as she returns. “Come to admire the view?” She gestures upwards, but her pointed expression makes Charles suspect she’s telling Emma to lay off.

 

“It’s magnificent,” Emma says. She offers Erik a conspiratorial smile. “Sebastian hates them.”

 

“Good,” Erik replies with relish. “Maybe I’ll leave them up even after December ends.”

 

Charles checks his watch and sighs. “I should probably go.”

 

 _Shame_ , Erik thinks at him, resting his chin on his hand. _I enjoy talking with you_. Emma’s eyebrows raise in surprise – she can’t hear Erik’s words but clearly knows he’s speaking to Charles.

 

“Would you like to meet for lunch again?” Charles tells himself it’s not a big deal if it hasn’t even been a week after all; he won’t look ridiculously eager if Erik also wants to spend more time together.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“Am I invited too?” Raven teases. “Or is this a private event?”

 

“Of course, you’re invited.” But Charles sends her the mental equivalent of poking her in the ribs and she twitches away from it. They very maturely stick their tongues out at each other.

 

Erik doesn’t quite hide his fond smile with his hand.

 

-

 

The week passes in an unofficial stand-off, with Erik continuing to add daily trees to his countertop and Shaw continuing to find finicky tasks to add to Erik’s workload. He’s glad to finally reach the weekend.

 

Logan’s in the front yard smoking a cigar when Erik gets back from his morning run. “Hey. How’d your race go last night?”

 

Logan exhales a stream of smoke. “Smashed it. Qualified for the finals next week.” He grins. “Thanks for making the replacement sprockets I needed.”

 

Erik shrugs a shoulder. “No worries. Did you catch the guy who messed them up?”

 

Logan’s grin turns wolfish. “We had a chat. He won’t make that mistake again.” Erik grins too. “How’s work? Shaw still being a dick?”

 

“Always.” Erik pulls his leg up, stretching the muscles out. He recaps the entirety of the Christmas Tree Incident for Logan, showing him the corresponding pictures on his phone.

 

Logan approves of Erik’s counter measures. “Anyone else would likely suggest you should accept his apology with good grace by now.”

 

“Never,” Erik declares and Logan chuckles, nodding in agreement. “He came back into the office yesterday complaining about birds bothering him and I said, ‘maybe they just don’t like tree thieves.’ I thought he was going to stab me with his fountain pen.” The personalised one, that he doubtless keeps inked with the blood of his enemies. “Good thing Shaw didn’t include Raven and I in his unit’s Secret Santa, because if we’d drawn his name, we’d definitely have given him a tree.”

 

Logan snorts. “Give him one for his birthday instead.”

 

This is a good idea – and Emma still owes him one, so she can find out the date for him. “Striker reimburse you yet?”

 

Logan scowls, which answers that question. “He’s now saying that extra payment I made is being used for ‘fees’ instead, whatever that means. He’s going to email me a breakdown apparently – so expect to get one too, just because he can.”

 

Erik groans. At the start of November, Logan had paid Striker an advance for December on top of that month’s rent. Striker had then told Logan he doesn’t accept advances but has continued making excuses about why he shouldn’t return that money.

 

“Sorry, bub.”

 

“Not your fault.” They’re due their ‘Christmas bonus’ in their next pay period anyway, so it shouldn’t put too much of a strain on his finances. And then he can tell Shaw he spent it on bills rather than ‘frivolities’ when the man comes to accuse him of leeching off non-Jewish generosity. “And you never know, maybe Striker will drown in a lake in the meantime.”

 

“I wish.” Logan brushes his hand over his jeans. “But, hey, if I ever need an alibi when that happens, you’ll help me out right?”

 

Erik laughs and agrees.

 

-

 

Emma starts off by counting the trees in Erik’s advent calendar – seventeen for today – before she gets to the reason she’s come to see them. “I’ve heard on the grapevine that the big boss is coming around today to inspect everyone’s displays for the competition.”

 

Erik doesn’t really care. Pursing her lips, Raven seems to consider her options before saying, “thanks for the heads up.”

 

“Good luck,” Emma tells them. “Even though we’re going to win.”

 

Erik and Raven exchange flat looks when she walks away. He may not care about the competition, but Erik would prefer Hellfire doesn’t win, because A) Shaw will be insufferable, and B) it doesn’t seem very fair that he might get rewarded despite his tree thieving ways. But it’s not like anyone’s going to ask Erik.

 

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if we actually won?” Raven says as she flips through a binder.

 

“We don’t actually belong to a business unit though,” Erik points out. They’re assigned to this whole floor, which is a technicality Shaw was pleased to remind them of last week.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Raven shakes her head. “It would still be funny though.”

 

They both jump a foot in the air when there’s a sudden blasting of music from downstairs, which sounds like a Celtic rendition of jingle bells. “Welcome to Christmas Land!” They hear Sean shout.

 

Raven giggles. “I guess they’re looking at X-Corps now.”

 

“They should win, just for Sean’s introduction.” Erik chuckles.

 

The two of them continue working for a while before the boss and his PA make it to their floor. He and Raven smile politely and greet them as they take in the display. Braddock takes a few photos with her camera – Erik careful to stay out of shot as she does – while En Sabah Nur starts reading the various signs. Erik doesn’t know whether the tale of the Incident has travelled as far as the executives.

 

He decides he’ll only comment if he’s asked, to prove he can be the better man.

 

“I love your little trees!” Braddock tells him.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Raven leans forward. “When are you going to decide the results?”

 

Braddock takes another photo – a close up of Raven’s bauble jar. “They’ll be announced next week. By the way, that booking you requested is fine. I’ll send you email confirmation this afternoon.”

 

“Thanks, Betsy.” Raven jots a note down about it.

 

Braddock turns to look at the boss. “Langley next?” She gestures. Erik gets up to open the door for them.

 

En Sabah Nur nods at him as he moves by. “Well done.”

 

Erik’s desk phone rings. He sits back down as he answers it. “Hello.”

 

“Sebastian’s hiding in his office,” Emma says without preamble, “pretending to be on an important phone call. Did the boss mention anything about the Incident?”

 

“Why?”

 

“ _Erik_.”

 

“No, he didn’t.” Erik twirls his pen in mid-air. “But he probably knows; especially if you’ve chatted to Braddock about it. I don’t think he cares though.”

 

“So, the issues between you and Sebastian won’t cause any bias? Given En Sabah Nur’s obsession with you.”

 

“He’s not _obsessed_ with me.”

 

“ _Everyone’s_ obsessed with you, sugar. You’re a hot commodity.”

 

“Whatever. And no, I don’t think it will matter.” He opens up a new email. “What happened to all the ‘we’re going to win’ talk?”

 

Emma’s response is to hang up, which makes Erik huff out a laugh. He still sends her the blank email – subject line **_Apocalypse Impending_** – when En Sabah Nur and Braddock leave Langley and head towards Hellfire.

 

Barely a minute later Shaw leaves Hellfire, walking with swift purpose, and exits the building. Raven raises her eyebrows at him but doesn’t comment.

 

Emma replies to his email – the subject line changed to **_RE: War?_** – stating **_Sebastian was clearly worried about whether you’d named and shamed him. He only stayed long enough to greet the boss --- hardly any fawning at all! But --- En Sabah Nur seems quite interested in what the deal is with you and Sebastian, in general. Joking aside, they might start fighting over you._**

 

Erik reads the email several times. He doesn’t really know how to respond, which was probably Emma’s intention. He takes a photo of the email instead, figuring he might ask Charles for his opinion later. Charles is better at discerning nuances than Erik is.

 

-

 

He keeps his forehead pressed against the desk when the door swings open, not bothering to open his eyes even as the metal zips on Raven’s bag grow nearer.

 

“Erik? You okay?”

 

“I hate everything.”

 

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Raven sets her bag down on the desk, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

 

He groans and tilts his head to the side, so he can look at her. “There was an ‘accident’ in my apartment this morning. A pipe burst; there’s water damage everywhere.”

 

“Bad?” She pulls a face when he nods. “An ‘accident?’”

 

“There was nothing wrong with that pipe before I left to go for a run.” Erik clarifies. “And somehow, Striker’s apartment was untouched, while both mine and Logan’s were screwed up.”

 

“That sucks.” Raven frowns. “And yeah, does sound a little dodgy.”

 

“Striker’s quarantining our entire floor until the repairs are done.”

 

Raven looks aghast. “It’s Christmas Eve!”

 

“I know. But he’s our landlord, so he thinks he can play god.” Erik sits up so he can lean back in his chair instead. “We think Striker was trying to fuck Logan over, but jokes on him because Logan’s headed off today anyway; he’s going down to stay with his brother for a few weeks.” And it’s probably going to take at least a week for Striker to even bother organising anything.

 

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” She asks, before answering herself. “Of course, you don’t. It’s Christmas Eve, everywhere will be booked out. Well, you can stay with us then! Have you got any of your stuff?”

 

Bewildered, Erik says, “um, I threw a bunch of bags together before I had to leave. They’re in my car. You’d really let me crash at yours?”

 

“For sure!”

 

“Charles won’t mind?”

 

Raven gives him a look like he’s stupid. “Charles will be thrilled to have you.” And to prove her point, she then calls Charles, putting him on speaker as she explains the situation. Charles, of course, immediately agrees with Raven’s solution. Erik feels bad about imposing – he knows they’ve been planning their Christmas for weeks – but he’s still exceedingly grateful for the offer. He hopes his presence won’t damper their enthusiasm.

 

He and Raven work at a leisurely pace, knowing that no one else working today will likely get much done either. It’s about mid-morning when Raven makes an announcement. “Ooh, Betsy’s just sent everyone an email.”

 

Erik looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor, going through the filing cabinet to make a list of which tabs need relabelling. “About the decorations?”

 

“Yeah.” She opens it up. “Okay. Thank you for participating, blah blah, everyone’s effort, blah blah. Okay. Winners have been decided. And. Ah.” She tuts. “Congratulations, Hellfire.”

 

 _Oh, fantastic_. “That’s it; I’m done with everything.”

 

Raven grimaces at her screen. “Ugh, it actually says ‘managed by Sebastian Shaw’ in here. Like, separately to the list of staff in that unit.”

 

“He’s going to love that,” Erik grumbles.

 

“Hmm.”

 

The cautious tone of her hum puts him on edge. “What?”

 

“Well.” Raven clicks her pen on and off. “There was an honourable mention awarded for the best individual desk display as well. Which was you.”

 

Erik stares at her. “What?”

 

“Erik Lehnsherr. In big bold letters.”

 

Honestly, he hadn’t seen this coming.

 

“I don’t think you get a day off like everyone in Hellfire does, which isn’t very fair.” Raven points her pen at the screen. “All the winners have been invited to a morning tea with the executives in the New Year, on January Seventh. That includes you. Certificates are going to be awarded by the boss; one for you, and one for Shaw to accept on behalf of Hellfire.”

 

Erik massages his temple. So, on the one hand, he’s done one better than Shaw, being singled out by the boss for an individual honour, which will irk the man. But on the other hand, the certificate he gets will probably be extremely Christmassy, which will encourage Shaw to offer plenty of anti-semitic commentary. Plus, he’ll have to spend this morning tea dealing with Shaw and En Sabah Nur in the same room, while they’re apparently fighting over who has the greater right to possess his soul, or whatever.

 

“Congratulations?”

 

Erik sighs. He tips his head back and stares up at the metal trees sparkling above him. “Still worth it,” he decides.

 

-

 

Charles is still kind of breathless when he re-enters the living room to see Erik sitting on the couch. He ignores the knowing look Raven sends him and offers Erik a beer. He tries not to stare at Erik’s throat working when he tips his head back to drink.

 

“Where’s my Moscato?” Raven asks as she switches their Christmas tree lights on.

 

“Kitchen,” he says, sitting beside Erik. “You want first pick of the movies?”

 

She nods, peering at their selection of Christmas ones. “Ooh, I know.” She holds up a red cover. “Erik will appreciate this one.”

 

Charles grins. “Yes, go with that.” At Erik’s questioning glance, Charles elaborates. “Home Alone. He gets left behind when his family go on vacation and has to defend his house from burglars.”

 

“The kid’s actually a bit annoying,” Raven contributes as she inserts the DVD. “But everyone tolerates it to get to the excellent showdown at the end. I’m gonna grab my drink and some snacks, hang fire.” She moves into the kitchen.

 

Charles shifts to face Erik. “What were you saying about the PA?”

 

Erik leans against the armrest as he turns towards Charles. “Braddock’s going on leave for five weeks at the end of January, and Emma thinks En Sabah Nur’s going to offer me the opportunity to do her role while she’s away. It’ll pay more, but.” Erik shrugs.

 

“It would get you away from Shaw for a while.” Charles reasons.

 

“True.” Erik takes another swig of his beer.

 

Raven comes out with a glass of wine and a bowl of chips, which she sets on the coffee table. “Budge over.” She shoves at Charles as she climbs onto the couch.

 

Their couch isn’t really designed for three people, which means Charles is pressed quite close to Erik as he makes room for her. Erik lifts his arm and drapes it across the back of the couch to accommodate him, and Charles’s heart stutters as he leans into him. Raven wriggles around until her feet are tucked under her, bracing herself against her armrest before she fishes for the remote to start the movie.

 

Sure enough, as Raven predicted, Erik appreciates Kevin McAllister’s knack for elaborately plotting the downfall of his enemies. All three of them spend most of the final act in hysterics. But the best part of the whole movie, in Charles’s opinion, was when Kevin had his pizza delivered – because that had been the moment when Erik’s arm had shifted from the couch to over Charles’s shoulders instead.

 

They start the sequel next and as Kevin makes his wish to have his own vacation, Charles works his arm behind Erik so he can curl it around his waist. Erik smiles at him, his thoughts warm. By the time the bandits run into Kevin, Charles has both arms around Erik and they’re definitely cuddling.

 

Raven, proving she’s a wonderful sister and brilliant friend, resists from commenting.

 

After the credits roll, Raven fetches the pasta salad he’d made earlier and dishes some out for all of them. Charles, having the pick of the final movie, hesitates over his choice.

 

“Just put it on,” Raven orders. “It’s tradition. I don’t care if Erik thinks we’re both weird.”

 

Erik nods around a mouthful of pasta. _Don’t let me change your plans._ “Your movies are fun. Put on whatever you want.”

 

Charles and Raven grin wickedly. “Okay,” Charles tells him seriously. “But you asked for it.”

 

So, they settle in to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol. Far from being deterred, Erik’s quite amused as Charles and Raven loudly sing along to all the songs. By the finale, Erik’s picked up enough of the lyrics to join in for a few lines himself.

 

They shut off the television and gather up their dirty dishes, piling them up in the sink. Raven yawns and stretches her arms above her head. “Good night.” She snags her drink bottle and heads towards her room, saying, “you can sort Erik’s sleeping arrangements, yeah?”

 

Charles and Erik look at each other.

 

“We’ve got spare blankets if you’d rather the couch,” Charles says slowly. “But…my bed’s a double, if you want to share?”

 

Erik’s smile sends a warm shiver up Charles’s spine. “I’ve no objections to being in your bed.”

 

Charles licks his lips. “Good.” He dumps the empty beer bottles into the recycling bin and flicks off the kitchen light – the room is dimly illuminated by the colours of the Christmas lights in the living room. “Come along then.”

 

Erik catches his arm as they reach the archway. “Since I’m engaging in Christmas traditions.” And Erik kisses him.

 

Charles responds in kind immediately, pulling Erik closer. After a few minutes of languid kissing, they start to list sideways against the wall and are forced to stop, though they don’t take their hands off each other. Charles glances up to look at the mistletoe above them. _Such an excellent tradition_.

 

Erik chuckles. _Yes_. “Although, just so you know, you won’t need mistletoe if you want to kiss me again.”

 

Charles does kiss him again, short and sweet, before leading Erik to his room.

 

He’s pleasantly buzzed and relaxed, with a shirtless Erik wrapped around him, radiating a deep contentment. It’s an ideal way to end the best Christmas Eve Charles can remember ever having.

 

-

 

Loud, cheery music pulls Erik from his sleep and he groans, burying his face in Charles’s neck.

 

“It’s Christmas!” Raven shouts gleefully at them. “Get up!”

 

Charles makes a displeased sound, tightening his grip on Erik. _Go away, Raven_ , he projects sleepily.

 

“Well I wish it could be Christmas every daaaay,” Raven sings. “When the kids start singing and the band begins to plaaaaaay.”

 

 _Is this tradition too?_ Erik asks.

 

 _Unfortunately, yes_. But the thought is threaded with too much fondness to be a proper complaint. Charles shoves at the blankets so he can sit up. “All right; we’re awake.”

 

Raven grins at them, skipping out into the hallway, still singing loudly.

 

When Erik makes his way to the kitchen, he finds the spiced, fruity smell permeating the house is from some small pies Raven’s taken out of the oven and is piling onto a large platter. “Mince pie?” She kisses his cheek – he’s beneath the mistletoe – and offers him one. “We love having them for breakfast.”

 

Raven ends up putting the platter on the coffee table and sits on the floor next to the Christmas tree. She grins at him, giving him a deliberate once over. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to go shirtless for next casual dress Friday?”

 

Erik seats himself across from her. “While I’m sure you’re not the only one who’d enjoy that, I think that’s pushing ‘casual’ a bit too far.” He takes another mince pie. “So, what do you two do Christmas Day?”

 

“Presents, obviously.” Raven smiles. “Then some games, while lunch cooks. Some more movies and dessert.”

 

A warm weight drapes itself over his back, arms wrapping around his chest. Charles pressed a kiss to Erik’s neck. “We know it’s not your holiday, but we did both get you a little something.”

 

“Really?” Erik’s a little overwhelmed by the gesture, and then immediately panics. “I didn’t get you guys anything.”

 

“Sure you did,” Raven says, offering him two small packages wrapped in shiny purple paper. “You made us those jam donuts a few weeks back.”

 

“Sufganiyot.” Erik murmurs.

 

“The gift of your presence today is enough for us,” Raven assures him. Then she adds, “although Charles probably won’t say no if you offer him sex later.”

 

“Raven!” Charles hisses.

 

She fights a grin. “Not while I’m here though, please.”

 

Erik laughs. “I’m not going to exile you from your own house on your favourite holiday.” He turns the presents over in his hands. “I can wait until you leave for your Boxing day sales shopping.”

 

Raven snickers and dodges the cushion Charles throws at her. Charles then pinches Erik’s side in retaliation before urging him to open his presents.

 

Charles’s present is no surprise because of the shapes of the metal pieces: it’s a sterling silver chess set, and it’s beautiful. Raven’s gift to him is a desk calendar with demotivational quotes on it, which is hilarious. He feels a rush of affection for them both.

 

Charles releases him to sit beside him instead, as Raven pulls the other presents out from under the tree. Erik watches as they excitedly unwrap their own presents. He knows this is their first real Christmas in years and it’s nice to be a part of it.

 

He vaguely remembers Hanukkah with his parents when he was younger, and it’s mostly a blur of laughter, good food, and enjoying being with the people he loved. And as Charles and Raven wrap each other in a fierce hug, Erik’s looking forward to continuing to celebrate their holiday in the same way.

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> -
> 
> I recommend all of the mentioned movies: Hello Dolly!; Home Alone 1 & 2; and The Muppet Christmas Carol.
> 
> Dummkopf = dumb head; idiot.
> 
> Amongst the other X-Men verse trivia used: Oliver Platt was the Man In Black Suit in First Class (the CIA agent who heads Division X); and Banshee headed the X-Corps in the comics.
> 
> Bonus points to those who caught the accidental DragonBall Z joke I made.
> 
> Raven’s wake-up call song choice was “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday” by Toy Wood.
> 
> Sufganiyot are deep-fried jelly doughnuts often eaten during Hanukkah. On that note, I shall clarify that I’m not Jewish, so I hope I've reflected their traditions respectfully. I also disagree with anyone who pressures someone into celebrating Christmas against their wishes or beliefs.
> 
> I hope everyone, regardless of their respective faiths, had a safe and enjoyable holiday period.
> 
> (And now, Tree Thief, I will finally let it go. But I’m taking every kudos as further vindication!)
> 
> -


End file.
